


Mirrors

by asterismal (asterisms)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Coraline AU, M/M, Tom is... something, Voldemort is a monster from another dimension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterisms/pseuds/asterismal
Summary: “I don’t even remember much,” Harry says. He taps one finger against Tom’s collarbone. “You were there.”Tom’s breathing stops, then it starts again so quickly Harry wonders if he imagined it. “I was?”“You were,” he says, “but you were… different.”“Different?”When Harry closes his eyes, he sees bone white skin and long, spidery fingers. “Frightening.”A Harrymort Coraline AU
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Voldemort
Comments: 20
Kudos: 324
Collections: Problematic Ships Flash Fest





	Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Susurra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Susurra/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Susurra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Susurra/pseuds/Susurra) in the [March2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/March2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> I feel like all my other otps have coraline aus so I decided to ask for one for this pairing!  
> I’m not picky on many things so long as the endgame is Harrymort. Also if Snake-faced Voldy could be his true form that would also be nice.

When Tom first proposed moving out of London, Harry was skeptical. It took almost three months of wheedling before Harry agreed to even consider it. Now, staring up at the house Tom wants them to move into, he’s wishing he’d held out even longer. 

“You’re joking, right?” Harry asks as he stares up at it.

Tom comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Not at all,” he says, pressing a kiss to Harry’s temple, “Is something wrong?”

“Well.” Harry doesn’t want to be rude, but… “How long has it been standing?”

Tom only laughs and says, “This house has been in my family for generations.”

“So, awhile.” 

“Mhm.” Tom kisses his cheek. “Will you at least have a look inside before you decide you don’t want to live here?”

Harry flushes. “I wasn’t—”

“It’s alright, my darling,” Tom says, and Harry can hear his grin in his voice, “I know what it looks like.”

So Harry makes the long trek toward the house at the top of the hill. At the very least, he tells himself, if they do move out here, he’ll never be at risk of falling out of shape. Once he reaches the top, he looks out over the landscape below, and… Okay. Maybe it’d be worth it just for the view: rolling hills as far as the eye can see, cut by fields and the occasional copse of trees. 

And the nearby village is only a short walk away. 

Tom, meanwhile, has opened the front door. When Harry finally turns away from the view, he’s presented with an even better one: Tom standing in the doorway with a beaming grin one his face, holding out his hand. 

Harry climbs up the porch steps and takes it. 

“We’d have the entire two floors to ourselves,” Tom tells him as he leads him inside, “The basement and attic are being leased at the moment, but they have their own exterior entrances.” 

Harry nods, too distracted by the grand appearance of the house’s interior to answer. From the outside, the house had looked almost abandoned with its dark, peeling paint and boarded up windows. But the inside… 

“It’s beautiful,” Harry says. 

“Thank you,” Tom says with pride. 

They spend the rest of the day exploring the many rooms of the house. Now that he’s here, he can’t imagine living anywhere else, and when he says this to Tom, his lover only smiles in that mysterious way of his, as if he never expected anything less. 

They move in three weeks later.

For all that Harry spends most of his time in the house, turning the beautiful shell into a real home, he makes the occasional trip down to the village to pick up supplies or simply go for a walk. 

The first time he tells someone where he lives, the man turns pale and crosses himself before walking away, not even saying goodbye.

“Okay...” Harry says to himself, watching him go with narrowed eyes. 

He hears someone scoff and turns to see an old woman standing beside him, watching the man’s retreating back with contempt. 

“It’s nothing against you, child,” she says when she sees she has his attention, “The Riddle House has stood over this village for longer than anyone can remember, and these people have always been a suspicious folk.”

“But not you?” Harry asks. 

The woman laughs; some might call it a cackle. “I’m not afraid of some old house,” she tells him, shaking her head, her dark eyes glittering, “Oh, no. I’ve lived here all my life, and it’s never troubled me.” 

“Then why—”

“Call me Bella,” she says, offering a face-splitting grin and her hand. When Harry shakes it, her grip is much stronger than he expected. “I’m your downstairs neighbor.” 

“Oh!” Harry’s been living here for almost a month, now, but this is the first time he’s met anyone else who lives in the house. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“So polite,” Bella says gleefully, still gripping Harry’s hand, “Oh, I bet he loves you already.”

Harry frowns. “What?”

“Never you mind, dearest,” she says, laughing to herself, “Don’t mind me.” 

“Alright,” Harry says, carefully extracting his hand from hers, “Erm— I should probably be getting back.” 

Bella nods her head, shooing him away. “Go on,” she says, “Go; don’t keep him waiting.” 

So Harry goes, feeling oddly unsettled. When he looks back, the old woman is still standing there, watching him with a smile. 

“I met Bella today,” Harry says to Tom later that day.

“Did you?” Tom looks up from his book. “How was she?”

“Well enough, I suppose,” Harry says. He bites his lip, unsure how much to share. He doesn’t want Tom to think he’s being paranoid. “She did seem a bit… odd.”

Tom sighs, fond. “Of course she did,” he says, “I think she’s always been that way. Don’t let it bother you.”

Harry nods, something in him relaxing at the reassurance. Only…

“I thought you said you’ve never lived here before,” Harry says. He tries to recall if Tom had ever mentioned meeting the other residents. “How would you know what she’s like?”

“Stories,” Tom tells him quickly, “My father lived here before he passed. Sometimes he’d tell me about the others.”

Tom has never talked about his father, either. Harry was under the impression they’d never met. “But—”

“Harry,” Tom says, and he sounds exasperated, though fondly so, “It’s nothing you need to worry about, I promise. Can you let it go?”

Harry meets Tom’s gaze, searching. Can he? 

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay,” Tom echoes with a smile. He reaches over to grab Harry’s hand and press a kiss to his knuckles. “Let’s go to bed, shall we? I’ve missed you.”

Harry lets out a startled laugh. “I was only gone four hours.”

“Hmm.” Tom uses their connected hands to pull him closer, until he can kiss Harry for real. “It was enough.” 

Harry very quickly begins losing track of time. 

He doesn’t mean to, but it’s remarkably easy when Tom is always around and willing to provide a distraction. “Hey, Tom!” Harry calls as he flips through their mail. “Did you see any mail from Ron and Hermione?” 

“I didn’t.”

Harry jumps when he hears his voice so close. “Tom,” he scolds, one hand pressed over his racing heart, “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” Tom asks, leaving the doorway to curl himself around Harry, nuzzling into his throat. 

Harry swats him halfheartedly with the mail. “Don’t scare me like that.” 

“Sorry,” Tom says against his skin, “Shall I make it up to you?”

“It’s eleven in the morning,” Harry says, incredulous. He’s not complaining about the recent uptick in their sex life, but every so often, it strikes him as rather odd. “Since when do you have this much energy, anyway?” 

Tom chuckles. “It was only a suggestion,” he says, “no need to be so suspicious.” 

“I’m not  _ suspicious,”  _ Harry insists. He ducks out of Tom’s hold. “I’m just saying, ever since we moved out here, it’s like you’ve become some weird, cheerful version of yourself.”

“Are you saying I was dull before?” Tom asks, one eyebrow raised. 

Harry sputters, because  _ yes,  _ that’s exactly what he’s saying, and it’s  _ true. _ “Well,” he starts, backtracking when Tom pouts, “No! I just—”

“Harry, I’m only teasing,” Tom assurers him with a laugh, “Relax.” 

Harry takes a deep breath and lets out a forceful sigh. “I am relaxed,” he says, and now it’s his turn to pout when Tom only laughs at him again. 

“Maybe it’s the country air,” Tom says once Harry’s settled back into his arms. 

“What?”

“You said I have more energy, now,” Tom tells him, “Maybe all the fresh air is good for me.”

Harry snorts. “Yeah, maybe.” 

If being in this house has made Tom more energetic, over time Harry begins to notice the opposite in himself. 

“What’s wrong?” Tom asks him one morning, rubbing soothing circles against his back. 

Harry shakes his head, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Nothing.”

“Harry, please.”

Harry sighs. “I haven’t been sleeping well,” he admits.

“Nightmares?”

“Mhm.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tom asks. 

Harry groans. “No,” he says, muffled into his hands. 

Tom sighs, and the mattress dips as he scoots closer. “You can tell me,” he says, “I want you to tell me.”

Harry rolls over so he can face him. “I don’t even remember much,” he says. He taps one finger against Tom’s collarbone. “You were there.” 

Tom’s breathing stops, then it starts again so quickly Harry wonders if he imagined it. “I was?”

“You were,” Harry says, “But you were… different.”

“Different?” 

When Harry closes his eyes, he sees bone white skin and long, spidery fingers. “Frightening.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tom tells him, and Harry forces a laugh.

He tugs Tom closer, until he can tuck his head beneath his lover’s chin. “Don’t be,” he says, “It’s not your fault.” 

Tom doesn’t say anything more. That’s fine, Harry thinks. 

Everything’s fine. 


End file.
